


Coda: Schemes And Screams (2001-2007)

by Cerdic519



Series: Elementary 221B [319]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - 2000s, Bacon, Bets & Wagers, Butt Plugs, Clothing Kink, Coffee, Embarrassment, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gay Sex, Inheritance, M/M, Nobility, Road Trips, Social Justice, Timelines, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2019-12-25 20:55:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18269180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: ֍ The Holmes and Watson lineages continued; the 21st century. A Valiant man is not as oppressed as someone thinks he should be. Christian Holmes III and Elaine Watson marry while his brother Shere and her brother St. John mark their wedding by behaving with about as much decorum as their famous ancestors (see under Absolutely None Whatsoever). Meanwhile a certain seraph continues to plot and scheme which leads among other things to someone getting a pleasant and unexpected surprise that may or may not involve pie (hint: it does), and married life sometimes includes some 'hard' questions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lyster99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyster99/gifts).



_(Valiant Henriksen IV, nineteen, is both the great-great-great-great-grandson of The Great Cake Detector and the great-great-great-grandson of his namesake the prodigious Valiant Holmes I. Angus Macdonald, twenty, is the great-great-great-grandson of Fraser Macdonald I)._

**2001**

**London University, London, England**

If he had not utterly detested the purple-haired harridan who through some divine misalignment of the heavens was his professor for this class, Valiant would almost have felt sorry for the old bag. Across the classroom his boyfriend Angus was clearly trying to hold in a laugh. Trying and failing.

Ms. Warrington finally found her voice.

 _”No?”_ she said incredulously. “What do you mean by 'no', Mr. Henriksen?”

Valiant mused on the uncharitable but probably accurate thought that this female was the way she was because she had heard that word far too infrequently from her parents when growing up. Not that she had really grown up although she had most definitely made up for it by growing out.

“I do not believe in reparations”, he said firmly. “We can hardly say we are all equal and then start picking and choosing which bits of history need sorting so we get money. Everyone would just pick the bits that suit themselves.”

The professor spluttered.

“But you are _black!”_ she almost shouted.

Valiant looked down at himself in mock surprise, then pulled his waistband open and gawked at Excalibur.

 _Am I?”_ he said. “Gee, I never noticed!”

Several of the students sniggered. Ms. Warrington visibly seethed.

“You are oppressed!” she said roundly. “That is a fact!”

“The only pressing I do is when I sell my body at weekends!” he grinned. “Folks will pay a lot more to be on the end of my ten inches, even if they can't walk afterwards.”

There were gasps at this. The professor glared at him as if she wanted to kill him, then tossed her head and pointedly looked away as she wobbled across the lecture-hall. Interestingly, Valiant noted, Angus was not the only person in class to be covertly looking at his ruler for some reason.

“Moving on!” the harridan said firmly.

֍

By the end of the lesson Valiant had received five texts asking him about his availability at weekends and eight requesting photographic proof. He would wait until tonight before showing them to Angus; the horny bastard always got jealous over such things and it was not like Valiant had to walk anywhere tomorrow after all.

֍


	2. Chapter 2

_(Stephen Hawke, seventeen, is the younger twin brother of the young Lord Tobias Hawke in the portrait story and so a great-great-great-great-grandson of Sherlock Holmes I. His first cousins once removed Ajax Watson II (nineteen) and St. John Watson (sixteen) are great-great-great-grandsons of John Watson I). Coincidentally Jean Watson and Eugene Fitzherbert are first cousins, both grandchildren of Jaime Lannister)._

**2003**

**Barcombe, East Sussex, England**

Stephen Hawke was visiting his Watson relatives in Sussex for a month, and despite his age he really should have known better. After all, Jean Watson (née Macdonald) had had to grow up in the shadow of three elder brothers all of whom, incredibly given what they had reportedly put her through, were not only still alive but in possession of all their faculties (although Stephen had some doubts about Uncle Rodney). So when he had joined her sons Ajax and St. John dinner it was perhaps not the wisest of times for Stephen to make fun of the youngest Watson's cropped haircut.

St. John scowled at his remark.

“At least I was not the one to be caught getting it on behind the bike sheds the other day!” he retorted. “Ooh, aah, harder harder!”

Stephen Hawke turned bright red as, rather notably, did Ajax Watson. Jean Watson chuckled.

“I am surprised at you, Jack”, she said. “Especially in these temperatures.”

St. John chuckled.

“Jack and Ste, sitting in a tree, K.I.....”

He stopped dead when he saw Jean Watson's face.

“Mum I can explain.....” Ajax began.

“Please”, his mother sighed, “as if I didn't know. I once remember walking in on Kris and Eugene that one time – that certainly taught me never to enter their house unannounced! And then that picture you have of Stephen by your bed, the one in that scrap of material that he calls swimming trunks. Do I have to have a Talk about....?”

“Mother! For God's sake stop!”

Ajax hung his head in his hands while Stephen turned bright red. Family!

֍


	3. Chapter 3

_(St. John Watson, eighteen, is the great-grandson of Jaime Lannister (1871-1962) to whom he bears a strong resemblance, and second cousin to Shere Holmes, nineteen, through common descent from Carl Holmes, Tantalus Holmes and King Tane of Strafford Island)._

**2005 (Earth-time)**

**Heaven**

The seraph took a deep breath and stared down at the two men arguing fiercely in a bedroom. The darker-skinned guy was some four inches taller as well as being more muscular and looked very much like he could likely beat his adversary senseless without breaking a sweat, but the angel knew that the blond guy was a skilled fighter and could easily hold his own. Although as his own dear Mother would doubtless say he would rather be holding the other fellow's.... which reminded him, She was having another Reading tonight. Ugh, She had somehow gotten even worse since that dratted woman, the mother of the character that he had 'borrowed', had arrived early last century! And Lucifer wanted to borrow more of her scripts again for those who had thought that Hell could not possibly get any worse......

Those people would shortly be finding out just how wrong they were!

“The wedding of the brother of one and the sister of the other”, Castiel smiled. “Meh, who needs decorum?”

Suddenly something snapped in the shorter guy and he caught his opponent unaware by pushing him back onto the bed and clambering on top of him. A fairly minor adjustment of reality and both men swiftly realized that they were really, _really_ aroused by each other. Then clothes were flying off all over the place as they raced towards the inevitable.

The seraph made sure that one of the brothers of the taller one changed his mind about coming to look for them; he had not really been bad enough to be _that_ traumatized. The guests at the wedding would soon work out what had happened and it would provide an important link to what he had planned for the future – once three years had elapsed and he was back with the man he himself loved and had been kept apart from for far too long.

He looked down and frowned. Perhaps one more very minor adjustment....

֍


	4. Chapter 4

_(Dean and Samuel Winchester are great-great-great-grandsons of John Watson I. Sometimes God - or perhaps Mrs. God - can move in mysterious ways....)._

**2005**

**Deer Trail, Colorado, United States of America**

Dean sighed as he eased back into the Impala. His first fill-up on a journey of nearly two thousand miles to see a Sammy who would probably not be thrilled to see him. Life sucked!

The sun was getting even brighter so he opened the glove compartment looking for the shades he knew were in there somewhere. There was a smattering of the usual junk as well and a coupon fell out. He picked it up and read it.

Hot damn, maybe life was looking up! A split token for a free pie at some place just off the main road in Denver if he used the other part for a half-price pizza at the joint next door. Seriously what were the odds?

֍

Indeed, what _were_ the odds?

֍


	5. Chapter 5

**2005**

**Barcombe, East Sussex, England**

Mary Holmes had to admit that when her eldest child Elaine had started dating her second cousin Christian Watson III, she had worried that they were a bit too close in family. But they had been clearly in love so she had decided that she would just have to go along with it. Besides there had been a rather large distraction. Two rather large distractions in fact.

If this prospective Watson-Holmes partnership was one of harmony, it was accompanied by another that was anything but. Elaine's eighteen-year-old brother St. John, a handsome young fellow who had grown to look very much like his famous literary ancestor, had clashed repeatedly with Christian's own younger brother Shere who was a year older, nearly six inches taller, far more muscular and...... well, she would never have said it to the poor boy's face but also adorably cute.

The arguments of the two cousins and soon to be in-laws had as far as Mary was concerned been far more entertaining than anything on TV these days. Or on the Net for that matter! Besides she had recently gotten into writing fictional stories that, while her family did not fully appreciate them as of yet, could certainly benefit from such a strikingly handsome pairing provided that she changed the names a bit. She liked Dean and Castiel for some reason, perhaps from her ancestor the famous detective and his 'friend'.

It would of course have been morally wrong for the family to start placing bets as to when all that passion would move from the vertical to the horizontal but they had done it anyway. And it was Mary who had scooped the pool for being bang on the right date having correctly suspected that Shere might just use his eldest brother's wedding to 'seal the deal'. Her husband had just shaken his head at the disreputable pair while Elaine's three brothers had not of course use their combined best man speech to poke fun at the two of them.

Well, that was sort of true. Acky and Tan had; Jack had nearly missed his part as he and her great-nephew Stevie Hawke had had to dash off to 'fetch their forgotten present'. Yeah right, and Jack had acquired that extra hickey by an Act of God!

The young these days! Still at least it gave her another idea for a story....

֍


	6. Chapter 6

_(Young Lord Tobias Hawke is the great-great-great-great-grandson of Sherlock Holmes I, the now grown boy who was shown the portrait of his namesake and ancestor back in 1999. He became heir to the Hawke estates on his grandfather Baron Harry Hawke II's death in 2005; Toby's wife Ursula. who is herself a great-great-great-grand-daughter of John Watson I is now expecting their firstborn twins. Toby is also first cousin once removed to Shere)._

**2007**

**Lewes, East Sussex, England**

“Thanks for bringing these round, Toby.”

Lord Tobias Hawke smiled at his friend. He and Doctor St. John Watson-Holmes really could have been taken for brothers if not twins, both being solidly-built tallish men in their early twenties with green eyes and blond curly hair. That was rather ironic considering that St. John's partner Shere, the young lawyer's actual first cousin once removed, could hardly have been more different. Although the suggestion the other day that Shere had made about 'bring him over to the Dark Side' – er, no. One, he did not swing that way and two, Ursula would surely kill him despite her calling the huge guy 'so cute and adorable' when she had seen him the other week. And then getting into a strop when he had called her out on her blatant simpering. Women!

“Your great-uncle asked that our firm pass these onto you”, the nobleman said indicating the boxes that his cousin had just helped him in with. “He would I suppose have preferred to pass them into your father but... you know.”

“Better not to someone who is as semi-detached as the house he lives in!” St. John quipped. “What's in them?”

“Notes from the original Sherlock Holmes”, the nobleman said. “A whole set of cases that he wrote up but that his friend your ancestor Doctor Watson never published. I do not know why they never saw the light of day but what with the fandoms these days there must be a huge demand for them. And your great uncle left you something else; his cottage.”

“ _'Elementary'?”_ St. John asked, surprised. “That was kind of him, although I know that he was grateful for our helping out after Nick's passing last year. I felt sure that Chris would get the place especially with his naming his third boy Sherlock the Second, but perhaps our great-uncle thought that the place would be too small for him and five kids.”

“Talking of people going at it”, the nobleman grinned, “how is my cousin Mr. Grumpy Cat?”

“Still sulking after he got us banned from the local McDonald's”, St. John sighed. “The cottage could not have come at a better time for us; a couple of gay rights activists have moved into the block recently and they are constantly at us to be more 'out and proud'.”

His friend just looked at him. St. John sighed.

“Open goal”, he said. “Shere promptly whipped out The Shredder and asked 'this out and proud enough?' I showed them out when they started taking photos; I swear the bastard is getting worse!”

There was an angry snarl from the next room followed by a loud thump as someone fell out of bed (again). Some little time later Shere Watson-Holmes slouched into the room stark-naked and scowling down at his lover and their visitor from his six-foot six muscled tower. St. John sighed; The Shredder was already up and ready courtesy of the 'Biggest Blackest Baddest Badass In Town',

(His lover's words since you ask; the first time Shere had said that, St. John had made the mistake of snarking 'sure not the Modestest!' and his lover had promptly taken him home and used his policeman's helmet, truncheon and handcuffs in a somewhat unauthorized manner. The doctor had been unable to leave their bed for hours and they were definitely doing that again once his body parts had forgiven him!).

Lord Tobias shook his head at the scowling behemoth.

“You will be giving Lewes a bad name!” he scolded.

“He already gave the neighbours an eyeful when he went out to collect the mail with just that ridiculous lumberjack hat on”, St. John sighed. “The old bat next door was drooling; he later boasted that the postie had threatened to get her phone out and snap him.”

“You got up before me!” Shere grumbled. “Coffee!”

“If I waited for you there might be an apocalypse!” St. John teased. “The coffee-machine is on if you want some.”

 _“If!”_ Lord Tobias snorted.

Shere nodded and padded into the kitchen uncaring of his nakedness, as always. St. John did not leer after him. Much.

“Your great-uncle had given permission for me to read some of these”, Lord Tobias smiled as the sound of slurping and happy sighing came from the kitchen. “I hope you do not mind?”

“Not at all”, St. John said.

“Bacon!” came a snarl from the kitchen.

“We are all out after _someone_ at it all yesterday”, St. John called back. “I shall call in at Tesco's on the way home from the surgery and pick you up some more.”

There was a satisfied grunt from the kitchen then his partner loped back into the room (still stark-naked), came over and pushed his way in behind him. St. John sighed in a put-upon manner as he was treated like a human cushion, moved this way and that until the horny bastard was finally comfortable. 

“I had better be off before you two traumatize me again”, Lord Tobias said rising to his feet. “Your sister is visiting us this evening so it will be talk of babies all around; that young Victor of hers really seems to have developed his famous namesake's abilities despite not yet being three. After his last visit Ursula had me put a lock on the pantry!”

He grinned at his friends and said his goodbyes. St. John was moved about some more until the behemoth beneath him was seemingly settled. Well, most of him was settled. One key part was most definitely not.

“Family problems?” Shere yawned, The Shredder™ nuzzling against St. John's back. “Your father not connecting with Earth again?”

His partner had to make an effort to catch his breath. And the horny bastard damn well knew that!

“If you stop poking me with that thing I might tell you.”

Shere sniggered.

“Tell me or I'll start 'interrogating' you!”

“Father is still with us”, St. John said, “mentally _and_ physically. I had better tell you Toby's other news; I don't think the neighbours like your 'interrogations'.”

“Yeah. Your point?”

St. John sighed again. His lover was incorrigible – fortunately!

“Great-Uncle Sherlock left us his cottage”, he said. “In Casdene, not far from here, and thankfully free of annoying campaigners, lustful postwomen and ogling neighbours!”

“You'd like to live out in the country?” Shere asked. “I thought you were a real townie?”

“A new generation of Watson-Holmeses”, St. John gasped as his lover began to move him into position. “And with the money we have from our jobs, perhaps.... adoption?”

“I might be persua..... ”

St. John tensed. His lover had found it.

“You have the plug in”, Shere growled, his voice somehow dropping another octave. “Who's a _good_ boy for his daddy?”

St. John whined in happy terror as the horny bastard reached over and donned his policeman's helmet then hoisted him effortlessly skywards. He was so damn lucky whatever his ass said oh my God right there baby yes yes _yessssss!!!!!!_

֍

Next door Mrs. Olivia Jones heard It start up again, and sighed. So much for asking one of the boys to go to the shops for her this morning. Although perhaps she could ask Mr. Shere later; she disagreed with her husband that young men these days should not wear trousers that tight. Little wonder that Mr. St. John was so often limping these days. 

Her husband really was – what did they call it these days? – a party-pooper, that was it. She had _not_ simpered at Mr. Shere when they had seen the two men out shopping the other week, whatever Bert said. And it was possible for someone that tall and muscled to look both cute and adorable; the postwoman and the UPS fellow agreed with her on that. Which reminded her; after seeing Mr. Shere getting his mail in the other day stark naked except for a frankly ridiculous lumberjack hat (on his head, luckily!) she definitely had to ask her grandson how to work the camera on her phone. Or to at least see if she could borrow the postwoman's.

֍


End file.
